


Vacancy Inn by Hale

by KaliopeShipsIt



Series: No Vacancy Trilogy [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Laura Hale, Alpha Donor, Alpha Stiles Stilinski, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Bottom Derek, Derek mpreg, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Family Feels, Fertility Issues, Humor, Kid Fic, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Derek Hale, Omega/Omega fertility issues, Post Mpreg, Protective Cora Hale, Protective Laura Hale, Sibling Jealousy, Top Stiles Stilinski, fluff and a bit of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 11:56:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6237640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaliopeShipsIt/pseuds/KaliopeShipsIt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Derek are a happily mated Alpha/Omega couple ready to expand their family.</p><p>Laura is a severely sleep-deprived new Alpha mother haunted by the Ghost of her Sex-Life Past.  </p><p>Cora is an Alpha facing a challenging decision.</p><p>Connor is a Baby-Alpha with territory-issues.</p><p> </p><p>... aka. the No Vacancy-Sequel*</p><p> </p><p>*while not necessarily mandatory, I do recommend reading "No Vacancy" first</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vacancy Inn by Hale

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my Lovelies, really long time no talk!
> 
> Before we move on to my opening remarks, let's get through the disclaimers (and a tiny fanworks related rant that you may skip if you want), first. 
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimers: 
> 
> I do not own Teen Wolf.
> 
> I do not consent to having my work published outside of Archive of Our Own. This includes sites such as Goodreads or any site that is trying to make a financial gain by using my fan work unauthorized. 
> 
>  
> 
> Let me explain why I added that last part (rant-mode on): A while ago I noticed some website had just copy-pasted "Expiration Dates" and was apparently selling it, but the site seems to have been taken down. Honestly, I was really angry about that. I am protective of all my fics, but I am especially protective of "Expiration Dates", because I spent such a long time working on it, and seeing some site just trying to profit off of it made me wonder how often something like that happens without the original author noticing, because let's face it, the chances of anyone actually taking up legal action are slim-to-none since fan fic writing is such a gray legal area to begin with.
> 
> I'm going to be really honest with you, after that I pretty much decided to exclusively stick to Mpreg, because - despite that website stealing my stuff - there is literally no real commercial market for these types of stories (the fact that no one has really attempted a "Junior" since Arnold Schwarzeneger should clue one in on that, as well) and the chances of someone swiping my idea and turning it into a horrid movie ala "Fifty Shades of Grey" are slim to none (though imagine, for a moment, the utter hilarity that would be some studio calling up, say, Russel Crowe, and telling him "Yo Dude, we want to cast you for this movie where we'll have slick drip out of your butt and then you'll get pregnant and go through a super explicit birthing scene, sound cool bro?")
> 
> Sure, I put my little disclaimers in here, but I am aware that I have next to no control over where my stories will end up in the end. I have read some seriously impressive fan fics over the years, most recently the "Stilinski & Associates" Trilogy by Ebjameston (based on your writing genre I'm not sure you'll ever see this little shout-out, dear author, but I'm just stunned by you, seriously!), which could easily be turned into a commercially successful movie series ... and since I don't want to lose my joy of writing fan fic (and having to worry if someone is trying to make money off of my work would really put a damper on my enjoyment), mpreg it is!
> 
> Rant over ;). 
> 
>  
> 
> That being said, RL has really, really thrown a wrench in my ability to write fan fiction in the past couple of months (it's all good, nothing to worry about, just RL being demanding is all) but I got majorly stuck on "Of Crowns and Wolves" over the winter break (not that I don't already have over 100 pages of that one, or anything, but I found myself completely unable to move the story from one point to the other without it sounding flat and boring to my own ears) and so I decided to un-stick myself by returning to the No Vacancy-Verse for a bit.
> 
> Unlike No Vacancy (which was a four-parter) this story is separated into two major segments that are their own little narrative arcs in themselves, so I'm hoping this one won't feel too much like a WIP even if I don't post the second part right next week. 
> 
> In any case, thank you for your patience, my Lovelies, and I hope you enjoy the continuation of this story!

 

Meet Derek Hale.

32 years old, Omega, cook at a family owned restaurant, father to a 2 and a half-year-old handsome, smart, funny little boy named Connor, and a second little one on the way.

Born and raised in Beacon Hills, a vibrant city that has – as it turns out – far too many burger places when one wants to find a one-night stand one had an inexplicable, deep-true-love connection with.

Or, alternatively, when one wants to find a ‘Guy named Derek who never bothered to tell _me_ his last name either, by the way, had I known that one and not just, ‘Sorry for the bacon-smell in my hair, I am a cook at a burger restaurant’ it would have been a hell of a lot easier to find him _before_ the baby-shower!”

Meet Mieczslaw Stilinski, Stiles to his friends and family, 28 years old, police officer, Alpha-father to aforementioned 2-and-a-half year old and – as far as Derek is concerned – slightly over-eager expectant daddy of the currently lime-sized baby that has once more turned off the free-vacancy sign of Derek’s Omega parts.

In fact, Stiles takes their baby’s fruit-equivalent as a golden opportunity to drag his best friend out to the bar to celebrate the end of Derek’s first trimester with a couple of caipirinhas and Derek considers himself a very nice and very patient Omega indeed when he dutifully rubs his heaving mate’s back the next morning, crouching next to him on the bathroom floor and feeling just a little bit gleeful that for once it’s not _him_ holding on to the toilet for dear life.

“Tell the children I love them and will always watch over them as a ghost! I might also scare the shit out of them just a little, but it’ll be for love!” Stiles moans when Derek manhandles him back to their bed as gently as possible, not overly impressed with the Alpha’s theatrics considering he spent the better part of the last month conducting an intensive study of the various shapes, colors, and consistencies of vomit his body can produce.

“Are you going to watch over me, too?” he asks, rolling his eyes fondly when Stiles holds up his arms and pathetically declares, “Snuggles!” in the exact same way their two-year old does and Stiles sniffles, offended.

“Of course I will! Forever! Especially in the shower and on this bed, while you’re getting off to the beautiful memory of our eternal love! Fair warning though, I _will_ turn full poltergeist on you if I ever catch you with another Alpha! Now hold me and rub my belly, our son swears you have the magic touch!”

Derek does, reasonably sure that all the Alphas who once mistook him for an Alpha and rejected him because of it would bite themselves into their dynamic-normative asses if they knew what a loving, nurturing, and _patient_ – he really cannot stress this enough – Omega he is.

When Stiles succumbs to his headache ten minutes later and falls asleep Derek gets up quietly, tiptoes over to Connor’s room for some Papa-son quality time.

Connor is even less of a morning person than Derek and still fast asleep when he walks inside, one leg sticking out of the bed, one looking like it’s stuck between the wall and the mattress, one fist hopelessly entangled in his soft, amber-brown curls and one thumb stuck in his mouth.

He’s pretty much the cutest thing the world has ever seen and there’s not a person in the universe that Derek loves more.

Eventually Connor opens one sleepy-blinky eye and Derek has to bite his lip to keep in the laughter when his son holds up his arms as well and yawns, “Snuggles!” even wiggling a little to the side to make room for his Omega father.

It’s a tight fit but Derek manages regardless and once he’s lying down Connor crawls on top of him, one thumb still stuck in his mouth and the other hand grasping the collar of Derek’s shirt as he goes right back to sleep on the gentle rounding of Derek’s belly.

 _Definitely_ Derek’s favorite little person in the universe, and he can’t quite imagine loving someone else just as much in a couple of months – a thought he voices on the phone later that evening, in fact.

“On the plus side, it definitely confirms a long-held theory of mine. You _were_ the favorite child after all, but in our parents’ defense they probably couldn’t help it.”

“Don’t be stupid, Boo-Boo, by that logic I’d have to love my daughter twice as much as my son because she was born five minutes earlier and I have to say that right now, faced with unholy amounts of baby-poop and spit-up, they both disgust me equally!”

Meet Laura Hale-Martin, three years Derek’s senior (“35 is the new 25, shut up Boo-Boo and get those candles out of my face, are you trying to blind me?”), near-obnoxiously proud Alpha-mother to six week old twins named Alan and Emmy, and mated to Lydia Martin-Hale … now and forever known as “The fiery red sex dragon who stole my heart and is keeping it in her treasure chest under the mountains. Get it, _mountains_!” ever since a very intoxicated, very innuendo-filled engagement party Derek still drinks to forget.

She’s also Derek’s boss at their family-owned restaurant, though both of them spend a little less time there right now, with Laura technically on Alphaternity-leave and Derek working half-days in accordance with Stiles’ deputy schedule so that someone can always be with Connor.

Derek loves Laura to the moon and back, even in her most overprotective moments, but he’s definitely relieved she’s got more people to focus her provider-urges on these days.

Not that it stops her from taking the twins on walks that _coincidentally_ pass by the restaurant to check whether Derek has succumbed to morning sickness yet and/or fainted in the walk-in freezer and died a brutal death, but with one infant strapped to her chest and the second peacefully sleeping – and drooling – in the stroller, her dramatic entrance loses some of its former intimidation.

All of it, technically, but with the exception of Derek’s little sister no one’s really got the heart to tell her.

Meet Cora Hale, 27 years old, Alpha, biology teacher by day and passionate biology-researcher by night, her extensive studies of Omega pleasure centers and sexual stimuli conducted on Isaac, her more than willing test-subject.

Isaac, like Cora, is incredibly laid back and quiet and Derek thinks they’re suited that way, can tell how comfortable they are with each other in the small touches, soft glances, and affectionate half-smile-half-smirks they direct at each other more or less constantly.

Because Derek values his privates where they are he’s not about to point out that Cora and Isaac are – in their very own special way – almost as sickeningly cute as Scott and Kira, but it’s a near thing, especially when Cora absentmindedly tangles her fingers in Isaac’s curls.

Scott is Stiles’ best buddy for life, Connor’s Alpha-godparent, a vet, and married to a quirky Omega named Kira, who owns a ma&paternity store downtown and – courtesy of Danny – has recently branched out into online-business, finally making a profit by designing pregnancy fashion that’s specifically targeted to the fetish community (“I thought Cora was joking at first, but it turns out there was quite a bit of a demand … no Stiles, I’m not designing ass-less leather chaps for Derek as a thank you to the Hale family at large … because I like Derek and want him to like me, too … also, I’m pretty sure Cora would _not_ appreciate that type of gratitude at all!”).

Then there’s Boyd, 31, Derek’s best friend since kindergarten, Omega-godparent to Connor and, as of two weeks ago, married to Erica, a 29 year old Omega with more sass than Derek could ever hope to handle, making him all the more honored that he was able to officiate at their wedding, held on a sunny early autumn day in the backyard of Lydia’s parents’ summer home.

Boyd and Erica’s wedding was about as disastrous as it was beautiful and Derek’s not proud to admit that the disastrous parts were largely his family’s fault, following his father-in-law’s tried and tested theory of the rule of three.

First there had been a panicked Erica’s threatening declaration of, “I’ll love those little monkeys and raise them as my own if you and Stiles bite the dust, you know that, but damn you Derek Sebastian Hale, if you barf during our vows because you just _had_ to get yourself knocked up again in time for the morning-sickness to fully strike at my wedding I swear I’ll end you myself!”, delivered as she had poked her head into the toilet stall where Derek had paid his dues to the porcelain gods for the third time that morning.

Then there had been a _very_ scary 20 minutes during which no one could find the rings and everyone suspected that Connor had taken his ring-bearer duties to a gastroenterological level.

Lastly – after the rings had re-appeared Stiles’ pockets where they had been all along and well after Derek’s morning sickness had forced him to make a run for the bushes the minute the newlyweds had stepped out of sight – Laura, severely sleep-deprived after three consecutive weeks of twin-baby screaming, had fallen asleep while standing next to the cake Isaac had labored over for the better part of two days, almost toppling the whole thing over when she had nose-dived into the creamy frosting.

“I’ll admit, there was a bunch of barfing, a near medical emergency, and a rather unexpected indentation of Laura’s lovely face in my cake that I was _not_ expecting, but all in all I gotta say our wedding was perfect! Now excuse me while I go peg the shit out of my new hubby!” Erica had ceremoniously concluded the night’s festivities and – near dramas aside – Derek’s pretty sure they’ll treasure that day forever.

Derek and Stiles traded mating bites shortly after Connor’s birth but aren’t legally married, yet, a fact that annoys Laura to no end (“Once I finally decided I _wasn’t_ going to castrate Stiles for knocking up Boo-Boo and then accidentally bailing on him, I sat down and wrote my best Alpha speech and it’s so damn good it’s a crying _shame_ no one’s gotten to appreciate it, yet!”) and very openly pleases Cora, who’s actually taken to show pictures of Derek and Stiles to her biology students (“I keep telling them that just because our Alphaic society thinks it’s got everyone’s genital and marital path figured out that _doesn’t_ mean you can’t make your own life decisions … huh? Yeah, well, I’m also threatening my Alpha kids that I’ll haunt them in their nightmares if they ever so much as _think_ about knotting an Omega during a one night stand, but that’s beside the point, really!”).

“I have to say though, you’d probably be the handsomest Omega to ever walk down the aisle if we _did_ get married the traditional way,” Stiles had mused wistfully the night after Erica and Boyd’s wedding and Derek had snorted, his “Considering that I’m starting to show already I’d _waddle_ down the aisle and that’s just a sight that no one really needs,” effectively ending the discussion.

Experience has, in fact, taught Derek that there’s quite a bit of waddling in his immediate future but he couldn’t be happier about it, incredibly grateful for his little subleaser who, at 12 weeks gestational age, is already surprisingly visible on his midsection.

“I know they say you start showing earlier with the second one, but how is it even possible that I’m only ten weeks along and you can already tell the pregnancy from space? _Especially_ after all that ‘You’re starving the baby Boo-Boo, where is the belly, Boo-Boo, here, have more cream-cakes Boo-Boo!’ lamenting I had to listen to last time!” Derek had commented two weeks ago, wiggling his briefs-clad butt in the air without thinking about it as he had hunted through the closet for the paternity pants and Stiles had stayed suspiciously silent on the matter, his eyes a little glassy when Derek had finally turned around.

“Huh? What was that? Sorry, I was distracted and massively aroused by seeing the evidence of my mighty Alpha breeding powers! Now come over here and sit on my face! Ok, seriously Derek, I know you mock me for my dirty-talk skills, but you could at least appreciate that I’m _trying_!”

“Wha … I didn’t even say anything!”

“Your eyebrows tell the truth and your pants are definitely on fire! Thankfully for you, so are mine, only mine burn with the power of love and not lies, so if it’s all the same to you, can I just lick all over you already?”

Stiles, all horrid attempts at dirty talk aside, is fully committed to compensate for everything he missed during Derek’s first pregnancy, rubbing his back through bout after bout of morning-sickness, pampering him whenever he can and, generally speaking, making Derek feel as loved and cherished as humanly possible on a daily basis.

Life, all things considered, is as close to perfect as it’s going to get and Derek couldn’t be more grateful for the people he gets to spend it with.

 

==================

_15 Weeks_

Stiles absolutely refuses to celebrate the night they made Connor as their anniversary and Derek is in wholehearted agreement, which is why Boyd and Erica show up at their home exactly three years to the day after that fateful baby-shower to pick up Connor for his annual “We’re sexiling our baby but he doesn’t know it, ha!”-Sleepover party at Casa Reyes-Boyd.

While Boyd patiently helps Connor stuff all of his favorite toys into a much too tiny Batman backpack, Erica plops onto the couch next to Derek, her well-manicured fingers already twitching in anticipation.

Derek shakes his head at her utter lack of subtlety, not quite able to hide his smile as he pulls up his shirt and places Erica’s palm against the curve of his abdomen.

“Well hey there, Cookie!” Erica beams, thumb rubbing in gentle circles and Derek raises his eyebrows, hoping they are conveying all the judgment he’s feeling.

“What? Biscuit’s already taken and there aren’t all that many cute sounding things you can bake in the oven … I can’t well call him _Lasagna_ , can I now?” Erica defends her nickname choice and Derek sighs long-sufferingly, promptly resigning himself to having everyone and their mother coo ‘Cookie’ at his belly for the foreseeable future.

“I will revoke your god-mother status if you _ever_ call my baby Lasagna,” he tells her seriously, his smile widening when Erica gasps loudly.

“ _Godmother_? You mean … _really_?” she whispers, awed, and Derek nods, fully blaming it on the stupid hormones when his eyes tear up at the look of utter elation on Erica’s face.

“I love you, too!” Erica declares, her eyes sparkling as she leans forward and plants a soft kiss right on Derek’s lips, lingering just a bit longer than she normally does (Derek blames it on the hormones).

“Having fun?” Boyd’s voice rings out, sounding remarkably unconcerned at the sight of his wife plastered all over another Omega as he walks into the living room with Connor sitting on his hip and Erica pulls back with a pout, her grin just a little on the leery side as she licks her lips.

“ _Damn_ , Derek, you always taste good but that was extra-yummy! Babe, what do you say we go home and put a baby in you tonight? I bet you’d smell and taste even better!”

Boyd snorts as he sits down on Derek’s other side, adjusting Connor so that he can snuggle against his father and Derek turns to Boyd with a surprised expression, feeling like he just missed something important.

“Elaborate?” he demands, eyebrows rising, and Boyd shrugs, lips curving into a little smile.

“We’re not going to put a baby in me right this minute, obviously, but we did finally decide that I’m going to carry our first, so there’s that,” he explains, rolling his eyes when there’s a crash from the kitchen.

A second later Stiles is charging into the room, noodles stuck in his hair from his attempts to cook their anniversary dinner and beaming like he’s trying to single-handedly power all of their kitchen appliances.

“ _What_? _When? How?_ That’s awesome, that’s … _Who_?!”

“Breathe, Batman. Also, think carefully about whether you actually want me to answer the ‘how’ … because I will, in graphic detail,” Erica says with a partly dreamy, partly salacious smile and Derek chuckles, no doubt in his mind that she would do exactly that.

“Ok, not the how then, but seriously, when are you guys going to do this? And most importantly, who is the Alpha? You should give me his name, I can run a background check down at the station, we want to make sure that …”

“We actually don’t have an Alpha, yet. I mean, we have an idea of who we want it to be, but it’s kind of … ah … complicated. But we’re working on it and once she commits to being our Alpha donor we’ll just wait for my next heat and then ... well …”

“And then we’re going to have a beautiful little baby whom we’re going to name Vernon Boyd-Reyes the First and he’s going to be the best baby ever – present company excluded, of course,” Erica finishes Boyd’s sentence, looking absolutely sure of the fact.

“Complicated?” Stiles asks, concerned, and Boyd holds up his hands, looking serious.

“Not like that. I mean, there aren’t any legal problems or anything, so you don’t have to go run a background check on her. She’s just … she’s in the process of figuring some stuff out about herself, so it might take a while longer. I mean, of course we could have gone with an anonymous donation from the one clinic on this side of the country that is actually willing to cater to couples like us – for a price that would put our great-grandchildren in debt, mind you – but we said from the beginning we wanted it to be someone we knew and trusted, so we’re just … going to wait a while longer. I can’t really tell you more about it for now, but you don’t have to worry. Either of you. Yes Derek, that means you, too, so stop looking like your cat died.”

“I’m a dog-person,” Derek says absentmindedly, wrapping one arm around Connor and pulling him closer as he shares a long look with Stiles.

“You know …” Stiles begins after a pause, hesitant, and Erica gets up from the couch and wraps her arms around him, smiling fondly even as she shakes her head.

“We know, Stiles. Boyd and I talked about it for a long time and we love you guys to the moon and back for offering, but … it would be _our_ baby, you know? And we know that there’s a 99 percent chance there wouldn’t be any tensions or complications that could threaten our friendship … but that one percent is just a little too much for our taste. Does that make sense?”

Stiles sighs, expression rueful as he looks back and forth between Connor and Erica.

“Yeah. Yeah, it does. Still, as long as you guys know the offer will remain on the table as long as it’s necessary,” he says solemnly and Erica nods, her lips gentle when she kisses Stiles’ forehead.

“Besides,” she says after a moment, voice decidedly cheerful to dispel the somber mood, “Can you even imagine the pressure my poor man would be under if he’d spend the entire pregnancy knowing there’s a chance the Reyes-Boyd-Stilinski production wouldn’t be half as cute as the little Hale-Stilinskis terrorizing the village? Nope, Stilinski definitely goes better with Hale, no doubt about it. Speaking of Hale-Stilinskis … how did the appointment go?”

“Baby’s growing just like it should be, everything looks healthy, and Derek’s doing great, so I’ll say it went quite well. Of course _someone_ had to spoil the fun by refusing to find out the chromosomal gender, which – I might add – was on perfect display according to Melissa, but you know, that’s the price I pay for being mated to a total party-pooper!”

“Poop!” Connor cries, looking absolutely delighted, and Stiles flinches, clearly having forgotten about his son’s presence in the room.

“Poop! Poop! Poop!” Connor continues, beaming as he hops up and down on the couch and Derek lets out a groan, throws an apologetic look at his best friends.

“The last time he went on a P-Word-Binge he wouldn’t say anything else for two days straight. I think Laura was about ready to call the child-psychiatrist until Lydia distracted her with a convenient Braxton Hicks incident. For all it’s worth, the man-child I share a bed with is _very_ sorry.”

Boyd shrugs, deftly plucking Connor out of the air as he starts hopping dangerously close to Derek’s stomach.

“Please, I’ll take your son’s poop-fascination over listening to yet another one of Laura’s drunken poems about Lydia’s _yummy mountains_ any day of the week. Speaking of yummy, Stiles, I’m pretty sure something’s burning over there.”

“Crap!” Stiles yells, disappearing back into the kitchen and Derek takes the opportunity to send his baby-boy on his way, trying very hard _not_ to take it personally that he’s pretty much forgotten the moment Boyd places Connor on his broad shoulders to carry him to the car.

“Shit, fuck, shit!” Stiles curses from the kitchen and when Derek joins him at the crime-scene he can’t help but chuckle at the sight of tomato sauce everywhere and a browned mass of noodles essentially molded to the bottom of the pot.

“Welp, there goes the romance! I hope you weren’t hungry,” Stiles sighs and Derek pulls him into his arms, kisses a spot of tomato sauce right off his mate’s nose.

It’s the perfect timing for a horribly cheesy-pun but Derek is a better man than that, busying himself with kissing all over Stiles’ face, his neck, nuzzling against his collarbone, and counting down to three, two, one …

“Then again, if you’re hungry for _my_ tender loins I can definitely do something about _that_!”

Derek can’t quite stop himself from snorting against Stiles’ shoulder and when he looks up Stiles is grinning, eyes sparkling with mirth and desire as he pulls Derek so close there is hardly an inch of space left between them, capturing his mouth in a hungry kiss.

In between weeks of morning-sickness, the usual first trimester exhaustion, and a rambunctious two-year old going on three and tearing through their house like a tornado on a daily basis it’s been a while since Derek’s truly felt up for being intimate with his Alpha, their sex-life mostly reduced to a hand-job here and there, but when Stiles starts running his hands down Derek’s sides that familiar want curls up inside him, makes him gasp when Stiles drops to his knees before him, looking up through his long lashes and flashing his eyes Alpha red.

Later – a while later – they’re cuddling on the bed, clad in only boxers and eating ramen and Stiles doesn’t protest when Derek makes grabby hands for the rest of his mate’s portion, muttering, “Heck yeah I’m providing!” as he props Derek’s feet up on his lap, waits for the Omega to settle into the cushions more comfortably before he begins kneading.

“Did I tell you what Connor said the other day?” Derek asks when he’s done, fingers lightly trailing across his bare abdomen, and Stiles cocks his head questioningly, raises his eyebrows in anticipation.

“Apparently Cora read him a book about a little dragon who hatched out of an egg on a tiny island and then grew up with a bunch of animals with speech impediments, and he’s now convinced my stomach is getting rounder because I swallowed a dragon egg. He’s getting really excited about having a baby-dragon to play with, I hope he’s not going to be too disappointed with the dramatic reveal,” Derek says and Stiles snorts, shaking his head determinedly.

“No drama, please, we’ve had enough pregnancy-related drama to last us a life-time. That’s a pretty genius conclusion, though, I mean, you must admit it would definitely explain the heartburn if you had a little fire-breathing dragon in there.”

“Well, he _is_ our kid, so him being a genius was pretty much inevitable,” Derek muses and Stiles grins, abandoning Derek’s feet in favor of crawling up the bed and snuggling next to him, hand leisurely drawing circles on Derek’s stomach.

“Do you think he’s going to like her though? The baby I mean?” Stiles asks after a while and Derek shrugs, turning towards Stiles with a soft smile.

“If memory serves I liked my baby-sister just fine, so I’m sure he’ll get used to being a big brother fast enough. So you really think it’s a her, huh?” Derek asks and Stiles grins, pressing a soft kiss to Derek’s cheek.

“Pretty sure, yeah,” he replies and Derek smiles, the words taking him back to a similar conversation just before Connor’s birth.

He’s a lot less sure of his instincts than last time, at least on the chromosomal gender front, but the one thing he and Stiles do agree on is that they’re expecting a little Omega, an unconfirmed fact they’re both determined to keep a secret for now.

“She’d be the first Omega girl to be born in either of our families in generations … it’ll make her all the more special, you’ll see,” Stiles yawns and Derek chuckles, mutters, “I guess I will.”

Stiles smiles sleepily, his eyes closing as he rests his cheek on Derek’s chest.

“I would suggest a round two, but fair warning, I might fall asleep right in the middle and probably drool all over you. That’s a very real possibility I’m afraid,” he offers and Derek snorts, replies, “I can hardly resist the temptation,” and rolls his eyes so hard it almost hurts when Stiles pats his belly for good measure, mumbling, “I can see that,” before he drifts off to sleep.

Derek takes a moment to ponder whether or not they are lame for going to bed before 9 PM on date night – and falls asleep before he’s even finished the thought.

He’ll blame it on the hormones.

==================

 

_18 Weeks_

Christmas is, as usual, a loud affair at Casa Hale-Stilinski and Derek once more feels decidedly grateful that he’s not only well over the first trimester exhaustion slump but also over the sensory-overload puke festival that made up a good chunk of his summer entertainment, his recently developed sweet tooth more than satisfied as he tests his way through the results of the cookie-bake-off Erica organized in honor of his little subleaser’s newly established nickname.

The living-room is littered with wrapping paper – Derek can definitely appreciate the cuteness of his kid being completely enthralled with something as simple as a pink bow or a colorful box, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to the day Connor actually starts appreciating the presents that come _with_ the packaging – and as he walks back into the room Derek pauses in the doorway, marveling at the happiness radiating around the room.

Isaac and Erica are engaged in a heated debate over who _really_ made the best cookie frosting – Derek loves Erica, he does, but Isaac _is_ a baker and there’s really not much grounds for debate, here – while Boyd watches with amusement, meticulously chewing each cookie they thrust at him to prove their respective points and looking deeply pleased.

Scott and Kira are curled up on the couch with Cora, the three of them eagerly watching – and even more eagerly debating – the _Keeping Up With The Whittemores_ Christmas special and despite the fact that he likes to think he knows better Derek can’t help but stare, transfixed, as Jackson Whittemore appears on screen in a lizard-patterned tight bodysuit, trade-mark smirk in place as he informs the audience to check out his just released collection of emojis.

Next to the couch Melissa and John are entertaining Connor, their hands touching every so often as they help him untangle bow after bow and Derek shakes his head fondly, wondering just how much longer it’ll take them to realize what Stiles and Scott have spent many years secretly hoping for.

Derek couldn’t have asked for a better father-in-law with the former Beacon Hill’s Sheriff, the older Omega’s guidance more needed than he ever thought possible during those first few months with Connor.

He’s also deeply grateful for Scott’s mother Melissa, his Alpha-OB-GYN, trusted friend, and honorary grandma for Connor ever since she placed him on Derek’s chest.

On the other end of the room Lydia is nursing Emmy while Laura is rocking Alan, her ginger-haired Omega son already passed out from milk coma in his Alpha-mother’s arms, and she looks more peaceful than Derek’s ever seen her, for once not trying to be the rock everyone relies on.

It makes Derek’s heart ache in a good and in a bad way, the gratitude for seeing his big sister so happy and relaxed during Christmas briefly overshadowed by memories of the many years before, images of a stone-faced Laura cutting the Christmas ham with tears rolling down her cheeks just two months after their parents’ accident flashing in his mind.

The memory is followed by variations of the same, image after image of Laura as she had tried to compensate for the gaping loss during birthdays, Thanksgivings, and Christmases, her expression and posture slowly getting less rigid over the years but the sadness and self-doubt never quite leaving her eyes.

There is neither sadness nor doubt in her eyes now and for once Derek doesn’t blame his pregnancy hormones for the sadness welling up inside of him, missing his parents with every fiber of his being, the knowledge that Connor will never get to know them a wound that’ll never quite heal.

“Hey, hey,” a soft voice whispers right next to his ear and when Stiles’ arms wrap around him Derek allows himself to lean back against his mate’s chest, turning his head and pressing their foreheads together in silent comfort.

It’s been a bit longer for Stiles than it has been for Derek, but Derek knows he’s missing his mother just as fiercely as he does his own parents and so he kisses his mate softly, their fingers interlinking over Derek’s waist as they take a moment to remember.

When Derek turns his attention back to the room Cora is staring at him, her eyes filled with worry, understanding, and that very same sadness, and so Derek gently untangles himself from Stiles, makes his way over the couch and sinks down next to Cora, filling the space Kira and Scott thoughtfully vacated for him.

Cora might be an Alpha, but at the end of the day she’s Derek’s baby-sister first, the only one of them who was still in High School when their parents died, and even though she’s – in some respects – perhaps the most adult of them all, Derek knows her well enough to hold up his arms, allowing her to cuddle close and kissing her hair, painfully aware that she’d never ask.

There’s a little tap on Derek’s knee and when he looks down Connor is standing in front of the couch, still holding on to his pink bow and expression hesitant, his hazel eyes tinged with the faintest hint of red as he stares at them both.

He’s much too young to fully understand his instincts but Derek knows that – just like many Omega children exhibit nurturing instincts from a very early age on – there are many Alpha children who experience a heightened sensitivity towards the distress of others, especially when there’s an Omega concerned.

Connor is frowning now, clearly agitated by the sadness he can obviously sense from not only his Alpha aunt but also his pregnant Omega father and Derek helps him crawl onto the couch, wrapping one arm around him and nuzzling against his hair to soothe him.

Derek’s always felt a little sketchy about using his calming Omega pheromones on purpose but Connor relaxes against him almost immediately, his chubby cheek smushed against Derek’s chest as he gets comfortable, one thumb going into his mouth and the other hand resting against Derek’s belly, little fingers tapping unconsciously.

Derek’s seen him do it to Lydia enough times to know it’s an instinct-motion, his son’s confusion upon meeting the twins for the first time enough of an indicator that he didn’t quite understand what was going on before, but it warms his heart nevertheless.

After a moment Cora’s hand joins Connor’s, her slender fingers covering his tiny ones, right next to Derek’s bellybutton.

“Hey Snuggle-Buns,” Cora says softly and Connor blinks up at her, smiling around his thumb and clearly tired out from the excitement of present opening.

“Cora sad?” he asks and Cora smiles, snuggling closer so she’s resting her cheek on Derek’s chest as well, leaning forward to bump her nose against Connor’s.

“A little,” she replies and Connor takes a moment to consider, his voice hesitant when he asks, “Kismas over?” and Cora chuckles, expression utterly fond.

“Yes Connor, I’m sad because Christmas is over,” she tells him and Connor nods sleepily, clearly on board with this explanation.

He’s asleep not even a minute later and Cora lifts her head, looking up at Derek with a solemn smile.

“You’re raising a really good kid. I’m proud of you Boo-Boo,” she says quietly and Derek narrows his eyes at her, not quite able to stop his forehead from creasing into a frown.

He’s used to Laura barfing her feelings all over the place, especially when she’s drunk or – as they have all come to find out the hard way – in her ‘I just had sex with Lydia Martin’ post-orgasmic haze, but unless she’s truly upset or worried Cora’s not prone to sentimentality, making Derek worry about her all the more.

“Cora, are you …” he begins, throwing a quick look towards Isaac and Cora’s nostrils flare, her eyes flashing Alpha red as she’s placing one hand on his belly.

“I’m fine. _We’re_ fine, so you can stop smelling so worried, that’s not good for either of you, Boo-Boo.”

Derek’s frown deepens and Cora sighs, shaking her head with a resigned little smile.

“Derek. I’m fine. It’s just … I guess I just miss them more than usually today. I’ll be fine. Stop worrying. No really, stop worrying, or else Stiles or, heaven forbid, _Laura_ will smell it and that’s just a bunch of drama no one needs.”

She pats his belly for punctuation, then leans over to kiss his cheek and even though Derek doesn’t quite believe her he decides to leave her be, knows her well enough to trust that if he can help she’ll eventually talk to him.

“Cora? A little help here?”

Isaac’s starting to sound truly exasperated and Cora untangles herself from Derek, striding over to offer her wholeheartedly biased opinion on Isaac’s baking prowess.

Derek watches them curiously, his heart just a little lighter when he sees the gentle way Cora touches Isaac’s nape, the way Isaac arches into her touch unconsciously, truly nixing his fear that the two are experiencing some sort of crisis.

Connor snuffles against his chest, his tiny body a little furnace against Derek’s belly and it’s a tiny bit uncomfortable, but Derek decides against getting up and putting him in his bed, all too aware that there’s not that much time left for him to devote all of his attention to his baby-boy.

Connor’s breathing softly and Derek closes his eyes and hugs him just a little closer, the buzzing sounds of the room fading into the background as he matches his son’s breathing and because he’s so calm and relaxed he doesn’t miss the softest of flutters deep inside of him, right under where Connor’s resting against him.

It’s a feeling Derek remembers all too well and his breath catches in his throat when he thinks about how different the situation is compared to the moment he first felt Connor move, sitting on the floor of a supermarket after one of the worst fights he’s ever had with Laura, both of them crying their eyes out and surrounded by jars of barbecue sauce.

It seems like a lifetime ago but when the flutter comes again Derek realizes that – even though, objectively speaking, he’s in a much better place now – it’s neither better nor less exciting, the joy and wonder just as breathtaking as it was then.

The flutter comes again and Derek’s hand drops to his belly, his eyes locking with Stiles’ across the room, the Alpha’s own eyes widening when he realizes what’s happening.

Stiles is plastered to his side a moment later, eyes still wide, and even though he won’t feel anything from the outside for a while Derek needs him to be a part of this moment, grateful that even though Connor is sleeping through this milestone on the big-brother-checklist he’s nevertheless there to share it with them, too.

He doesn’t notice the click of Erica’s camera but the picture gets framed in their house regardless.

 

=================

 

_26 Weeks_

Derek feels that, as the person who spent almost ten hours in agony trying to birth the kid, his opinion on whether or not a three year old _really_ needs a birthday party that rivals a banquet for a king should carry some weight.

“I can see why you’d think that. I personally always felt that birthing Stiles’ gigantic head should have guaranteed me steaks and ice cream for life. I guess we were both wrong,” the proud grandfather muses as he lugs a birthday present the size of a pony past a gaping Derek, making the pregnant Omega wonder – for one heart-stopping second – if the older Omega actually got a horse.

“He’s only turning three once, don’t be such a Sour Face about it! Hey Cookie, your Fairy Godmother loves you!” Erica beams, patting his belly as she moves past him with an equally large present, followed by a grinning Boyd, who briefly rests his palm against Derek’s side in greeting.

“Let him enjoy his last only-child birthday, he’s going to have to share his presents and everyone’s attention soon enough and trust me, it’ll be an adjustment,” Laura says matter-of-factly, looking like she’s reliving a very painful memory. Derek huffs, not quite sure whether he should feel insulted at her tone or not.

“Papa! A bouncy castle!” Connor yells for the third time, his entire body vibrating with excitement, and Derek sighs, resigning himself to the fact that his child is growing up around a bunch of spoiling-enablers.

An hour later Connor’s jumping around in the – admittedly tiny – indoor bouncy castle with Scott and Stiles, mouth smeared with chocolate cake and squealing in delight and Derek’s resting his feet, silently congratulating himself for being the one to insist on the house with the big living-room as he absentmindedly pays attention to the chatter around him.

Lydia and Laura are crashed out on the love-seat, fast-asleep despite the noise surrounding them and Derek smiles at Isaac gratefully when he liberates the baby-phone from Lydia’s lax grip and takes it to the other end of the room, all of them in unanimous agreement to let them get at least a little-bit of sleep.

Isaac rejoins Cora, who is in a quiet discussion with Erica, and Boyd over by the cake and Kira’s studiously explaining the pros and cons of leather-pregnancy fashion to Liam and Mason, who still work in the restaurant part-time and currently look like they are regretting all of their life-choices.

“Oh my god, where does he get all this unholy energy!” Scott groans all of a sudden, flopping onto the couch next to him with an oof-sound and Derek snorts, points over to where Stiles is still hopping up and down on his knees, mindful not to accidentally fly their son through the air like he’s auditioning for the ill-fated Spider-Alpha musical.

“He’s not the only one with unholy amounts of energy,” Derek muses and the baby promptly delivers a sharp kick against his ribs, apparently hell-bent on proving him right.

The baby’s movements have been strong enough to feel from the outside for three weeks now and Derek’s seriously starting to wonder if his little one is trying to make up for the 23 weeks of outsider attention it has missed, reasonably sure Connor didn’t move half as much at this stage in comparison.

“Maybe she’s already training for the Olympics! If so, I bet Auntie Allison will teach her some kick-ass archery moves!”

Scott, always conscious of his best-bro status for life, has fully jumped on the “First Hale/Stilinski Omega Girl in Three Generations, Heck Yeah My Sperm Is Kick-Ass”-Train Stiles has been comfortably riding for months now and Derek shrugs, refusing to let himself get drawn into the not-so-secret gender-betting pool that, he’s pretty sure, Erica is illegally running out of her basement.

“John says Stiles was the same as a child and that this is all a big cosmic conspiracy coming back to bite him in the ass for all the broken Stilinski family heirlooms over the years,” the Omega offers and Scott winces, mutters, “I _might_ have been responsible for some of those broken items, I’m not going to lie.”

“Speaking of my Dad … has anyone seen him in a while?” Stiles asks, having traded jumping duties with Liam and Mason, hair disheveled and just a little out of breath and Scott looks around, frowning in confusion.

“Wait … my mom isn’t here, either. Did they leave without telling us?”

“I think they wanted to go look at the nursery,” Kira volunteers from the table and Stiles snorts, throws a meaningful look at Derek.

“Nothing to look at for now, really, since _someone_ won’t let me go for a _Star Wars_ theme even though it’s … hold on a second, how long ago was that?”

“Uh … a while ago, now that you mention it,” Kira says slowly and Derek can see the exact moment Stiles and Scott share one of their simultaneous epiphanies, their eyes going almost comically wide as they gape at each other.

“You think that …”

“Are they …”

“Would they …”

“They _wouldn’t_ …”

A second later Scott jumps off the couch with Stiles following suit and Derek is pretty sure another Stilinski family heirloom meets its premature demise when something crashes from the hallway, followed by two sets of feet trampling up the stairs in a mad dash.

“What did I miss? Babies awake?” Laura asks, untangling herself from Lydia with an alarmed expression and Derek’s about to answer when Stiles’ voice rings through the house, stopping all of them in their tracks.

“Seriously Dad? _Seriously_? In my _baby’s nursery_? I can’t even, I … _why the hell did it take you two so damn long?_ ”

“And that, Connor, is why your first date is going to be a complete disaster,” Erica says drily and when the entire room breaks out into laughter the birthday-boy joins, too, clearly not the least bit concerned about his future dating-prowess.

“Did you have fun today, Connor?” Derek asks him as he puts him to bed later that night and Connor sleepily beams up at him, thumb already stuck in his mouth.

“Birthday every day, Papa?” he mumbles and Derek takes that as a yes, chuckling as he kisses Connor’s forehead.

His son crashes hard not even a minute into his bed-time story and when Derek walks back into their bedroom Stiles is well on his way to falling asleep as well, his smile just a little dopey after one too many “We’re _finally_ bros in an official capacity” celebratory drinks with Scott, who, by the time Kira had dragged him out the door, had been singing “I will always love you” at the top of his voice, enthusiastically but horribly off-key.

“I feel like I need to give Melissa the talk. About not hurting my dad? But I also like my balls where they are, so I probably won’t,” Stiles muses as Derek slips under the covers and the Omega snorts, adding, “That’s probably wise,” as he gets comfortable, lying on his side and sighing contentedly when Stiles snuggles against him, arm securely draped over his waist.

It’s been a long day and Derek’s just about to fall asleep when Stiles speaks again, voice filled with wonder as he lightly strokes Derek’s stomach.

“This time next year Cookie’s going to celebrate her big brother’s birthday with us,” he says and Derek smiles sleepily, placing his hand on Stiles’ and closing his eyes.

“Do you think they’ll like each other?” he wonders and Stiles chuckles, kissing Derek’s nape.

“If he only loves her half as much as your sisters love you she’s going to be one lucky little Cookie. Besides, rumor has it that Hale Alphas are almost ridiculously overprotective – one might even say _obsessively_ overprotective – of their Omega siblings, so I’m not even a little worried,” Stiles says, voice filled with conviction.

Derek grins sleepily.

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Sure you wouldn’t,” Stiles yawns and as they drift off to sleep Derek really hopes he’s right.

 

====================

 

_30 Weeks_

“Helena,” Stiles says one evening after Connor’s gone to sleep, looking up at Derek over the rim of a massive book that he’s been studying for the past hour, and Derek cracks open one eye, raises an eyebrow questioningly.

“Helena?” he asks, stretching a little on his side of the bed and Stiles grins, his fingers tapping against the title of the book that Derek can now tell reads _Elizabeth and George – A Guide to Truly Regal Baby-Naming._

“Helena,” Stiles confirms, looking at Derek expectantly, and Derek frowns, head cocked to the side in contemplation.

“It’s … nice,” he says and Stiles sighs, snapping the book closed and sitting up so he can fully face Derek.

Derek and his 8 months pregnant frame are not jealous of Stiles’ ability to sit cross-legged.

They aren’t.

Much.

“No Helena then,” Stiles continues and Derek smiles apologetically, aware that it’s probably the 50th name he has vetoed in the past couple of months.

“I’m just not feeling it, somehow,” he explains, not sure how he can put it into words and Stiles grins fondly, reaches over and pulls Derek’s sleeping shirt up just a tad so he can lean down and press his lips to Derek’s stomach.

“I think Papa secretly thinks you’re a boy, Cookie. The joke’s on him, obviously, because you and I know what’s up, but we’re going to humor him for now, I think,” he whispers, grinning up at Derek and Derek shrugs, resting his hand against a sore spot on his side where Cookie’s been engaged in target practice for the better part of the evening.

“Papa doesn’t think anything. We live in a society where some people get away with calling their daughters James, apparently, so Papa’s not committing to any gender predictions here … he’s just not feeling Helena for you,” he tells his stomach seriously and Stiles shakes his head, holding up his finger and waggling it in front of Derek’s nose with a frown.

“He’s one of the only Omega actors who star in action movies _and_ he played fricken’ _Deadpool_ , Derek … he could name his kid Potato-Salad the Fourth and it would be kick-ass awesome!”

“If you say so,” Derek says agreeably and Stiles nods, huffing playfully as he slides in between Derek’s back and the headboard of the bed, fingers gently digging into the tense muscles of Derek’s lower back.

The Omega leans back with a contented sigh, appreciating Stiles’ continued dedication to make sure Derek never actually has to ask for these things, and after a short pause Stiles kisses his neck, breath warm near Derek’s ear as he asks, “How about you suggest a name for a change, then.”

“I like Sonya,” Derek says after a moment’s consideration, turning his head towards him, and Stiles beams, looking almost relieved.

“I like Sonya, too! I …”

“But I’m just not feeling it,” Derek continues, feeling a little bad when Stiles’ face falls.

“Alright … do you have a boy name that you’re _feeling_ , then?” the Alpha asks and Derek nods, mouthing the name silently before actually saying it out loud.

“Sean.”

Stiles stares at him for a moment, eyebrows rising higher and higher and Derek’s about to ask him why he looks like he’s about to explode with laughter when Stiles does just that.

“What’s so funny about that?” Derek demands and Stiles snorts, arms wrapping around Derek’s middle and patting his stomach.

“I love you Derek, I do, and I will watch all the _James Bond_ movies with you, even though I still wonder how it’s even possible that an Omega who’s so opposed to gender stereotypes can be so enthralled with the Knot-Fest that is the Bond franchise, but we will not, I repeat, not name our kids Sean and Connor.”

“Why would …” Derek begins, pausing when he gets it and turning bright red.

Stiles once more breaks out into laughter, his lithe frame shaking against Derek’s back.

“That’s _not_ what I was going for!” Derek defends himself, scowling when Stiles huffs, “Sure, sure, Mr. “I Secretly Want to be the Next Bond-Omega”, whatever you say my love.”

“It’s not!” Derek insists, not bothering to deny the Bond-Omega accusation, because his big sister is an evil snoop and at this point _all_ of his friends have seen the picture of the Bond poster where a very teenaged Derek had taped his own face over the Omega in Sean Connery’s arms.

Stiles kisses his cheek, shoulders still shaking with laughter, and Derek huffs, his “What do _you_ like, then?” perhaps a tad bit more petulant Connor-style than he was going for.

Stiles stops laughing and makes a thoughtful sound, fingers lightly tapping against Derek’s belly as he thinks.

“How about … Linus?” he asks after a while and Derek tilts his head to the side, thinking.

“I’m not …”

“Feeling it?” Stiles finishes his sentence, letting out a huge sigh when Derek shrugs.

“That was an exercise in futility, huh? Ah well, luckily for Cookie we still have ten weeks left, possibly eleven if she decides to be as fashionably late as her big brother was, so we should be able to come up with something we’re both feeling eventually. While we’re on the subject of feelings, my nether regions have been pushed against your delectable butt for too long and are currently shooting up rather tingly feelings all over my spine, so if I could interest you in actually _feeling_ something on this fine evening I’d …”

Derek, for the first time that night, is definitely feeling it.

Twice.

He’s so wholeheartedly feeling it, in fact, that he’s still riding a little pregnancy-heightened hormonal high when he walks into the restaurant the next morning and Laura crinkles her nose at his smell, looking equally judgmental and envious when she broodily inspects the impressive hickeys on Derek’s neck.

“Enjoy it while it lasts, how our parents ever found the time to make Cora is beyond me, there is no sex-life to be had with two teething kids, I swear!” his big Alpha sister gripes, looking like the whole universe is conspiring to keep her from sampling the delight that is Lydia Martin-Hale.

“You’re the one who ran around bragging for _months_ that her – and I am quoting from a very painful memory here – _magnificent, overachieving knot_ put two buns in the oven instead of just one, so stop complaining,” Derek says cheerfully, feeling only a tiny bit guilty when Laura’s head drops onto the counter with a loud thud.

“Hey Laura, how are you on this glorious day?” Stiles chirps when he walks into the restaurant for his lunch break four hours later and Derek can hear Laura’s heartfelt “Bite me!” all the way back in the storage room, where he’s rummaging for some chocolate fudge while Liam is manning the kitchen.

“Your big sister is a bit … on edge,” Stiles comments as he pokes his head into the storage room and Derek grunts in agreement, not even remotely surprised when Stiles’ arms circle around him and his nose nuzzles into the crook of Derek’s neck.

If he had to choose a favorite stage of pregnancy, Derek muses when Stiles’ ministrations turn from gentle caresses into health-code-violating-territory, this would probably be it – he’s eight months pregnant with his second baby and definitely looks the part, but even though his belly is slowly starting to become just a little bit of a hindrance to his every-day life his hormones are in full overdrive these days, providing him with a surprising amount of energy _and_ earth-shattering orgasms on an almost daily basis.

He’s also reached the exact same stage of pregnancy he was at with Connor when Stiles stumbled back into his life three and a half years ago, and the part of Derek that’s already getting interested in the second orgasm of the day wonders how he was actually physically able to keep his hands off the Alpha for more than a month as they had gotten to know each other back then, belatedly impressed with his self-control.

Stiles lets out a low moan against his ear, fingers roaming over the curve of Derek’s abdomen and dipping underneath his waistband and Derek figures that, given all the – occasionally awkward, he’s not going to lie, but all overall pretty amazing –pregnancy sex he missed out on last time, a quickie in the storage room is only justified.

There’s also the fact that he’s pretty sure he doesn’t have much longer to engage in these kinds of amorous activities without seriously straining something and his Alpha’s blown pupils indicate that he’s very much on board with Derek’s line of thinking.

Liam gives them a deeply wounded look when they finally emerge from the room, the music blaring from the oversized headphones he’s wearing like a shield so loud that even Stiles has the good grace to wince and Laura looks downright murderous when she slams Stiles’ Banana Split Sundae on the counter, topped with a crooked banana _very_ generously drizzled in red raspberry sauce that – Derek’s pretty sure – the recipe doesn’t call for.

“Look at it this way – it’s good practice for us, Connor can get some quality time with his cousins, _and_ I’d rather not have Laura get back into that ‘Let’s castrate Stiles’ mindset she had going on for longer than anyone was really comfortable with, that red-splattered banana was … terrifying,” Stiles muses when they sit in their living-room later that night, each of them feeding a twin while Connor looks on curiously.

Lydia had not protested when Stiles had spontaneously shown up after work to kidnap her babies for an overnight visit (“I’m pretty sure I heard her yell “Thank god!” as soon as she closed the door, but it’s not like she’d ever admit to _that_ ”) and Derek had barely stifled his pained laughter at Laura’s very detailed thank-you message, the content of which he’s reasonably certain no self-respecting Omega brother should _ever_ know about his Alpha sister.

Then again, that train left the station the moment his 16 year old sister, who had just went through her first rut, marched into his room when he was 13, declared that their parents couldn’t be trusted with giving him the proper ‘talk’, and proceeded to outline the urges of Alphas and how to best protect oneself from their “throbbing knots of devious desire” until his Alpha mother came to rescue him, dragging Laura out by her ear and leaving his very amused Omega father to reassure him that knots weren’t the Evilness of Evil Laura had painted them to be.

Stiles is feeding Alan and patiently explaining to Connor why his Omega cousin can’t quite eat chocolate and peanut butter, yet, and with his favorite boys happily occupied Derek can devote all of his attention to his Alpha niece, gently strokes his finger along her cubby cheeks as she suckles the last milk out of her bottle.

Apart from inheriting Laura’s hazel eyes Alan is all Lydia, from his ginger hair to his almost elfin features – he’ll definitely fit in with society’s expectations of Omegas, unlike Derek, who still gets mistaken for being the Alpha when he’s out with Stiles – but Emmy is a Hale through and through, dark hair, big hazel eyes, slightly darker complexion, and just the barest hint of freckles dotting her tiny nose.

They’re six months old now, the age when most babies start to develop their distinctive Alpha or Omega scent, and when Derek drapes Emmy over his shoulder to gently pat her back he inhales her soft baby Alpha smell, still very faint – and probably only noticeable to him because the pregnancy has heightened his sense of smell – but unmistakably there, reminding him of peaceful evenings spent rocking and feeding Connor with Stiles sitting cross-legged on the nursery floor, eyes flashing a proud Alpha red every so often as he had watched his Omega and son.

Derek really needs to sit down his hormones and have a stern conversation with them, because he can feel his eyes welling up at the memory, the tears not quite as uncalled for as that one outburst over that David Beckham Gillette commercial at the beginning of his second trimester that they don’t talk about, ever, but still somewhat embarrassing.

“Derek?” Stiles asks, looking worried, and Derek flashes him a wobbly-lipped smile, mouthing “I’m fine” and turning his head to nuzzle against Emmy’s cheek.

“Papa sad?” Connor asks, sitting just as alert as his Alpha daddy and Derek beckons him closer, positioning Emmy back in his arms and gently rocking her, hoping she’ll fall asleep before her gums start bothering her again.

“I’m not sad, Connor. Your cousin Emmy just reminds me of you, when you were a little baby,” Derek explains once Connor has climbed onto the couch and Connor frowns, looking very confused.

“I’m not a baby,” he declares and Derek chuckles, nodding in agreement.

“That’s right Connor. But before you were born Papa carried you in his belly, just like he’s carrying your little sister … uh … or your little brother in his belly right now,” Stiles explains and Connor’s eyes widen as he looks back and forth between Emmy and his Omega father’s round stomach.

“Baby in your belly?” he asks, and well, it’s not like this is the first time they’ve talked to him about it, but with Emmy falling asleep in his arms and his own baby starting to move around inside of him as if it can sense it’s the topic of conversation, Derek figures a practical demonstration might be much more effective than the somewhat conservative “I’m going to be a Big Alpha, but instead of clueing me in about the facts of life my parents are trying to sell me on some abstinence-education-stork-shit” book they got from the library.

“The baby is in my belly, that’s right,” he says, adjusting his hold on Emmy so he can take Connor’s hand.

When he places his son’s little palm on his stomach the baby nudges against him and Connor gasps, looking almost exactly like Stiles for a second as he stares up at Derek with an incredulous expression.

“Baby-sister?” he asks, awed, and Derek nods, adds, “Or baby-brother,” for good measure.

“Baby sister hungry? Like Emmy?” Connor asks, nodding to the empty bottle on the table and Derek nods with a smile, figuring that he could go for a little post-dinner snack.

“I go get food!” Connor exclaims, hopping down from the couch and marching towards the kitchen with _intent_.

Derek doesn’t even need to look at the proud, shit-eating grin on Stiles’ face to know that his three-year-old Alpha son has slipped into provider-mode on instinct, the sight almost too adorable for words.

“I’ll better take this golden opportunity to go teach him a thing or two about proper providing. Wouldn’t want him to try and provide you with the dish detergent or something,” Stiles muses, carefully placing down a sleeping Alan in his overnight-bassinet before he makes a run for the kitchen, where Derek can already hear the ominous sounds of cupboards opening that used to signal imminent destruction not too long ago.

Emmy lets out a sleepy coo and when Derek looks down at his niece she is fast asleep, her little eyelashes fluttering against her soft cheeks.

“Sleep well, baby-girl,” he whispers to her, softly kissing her forehead as he gets up with just a little bit of difficulty to place her in her own bassinet.

He’s just gotten comfortable again when Connor triumphantly marches out of the kitchen, followed by a red-faced Stiles who’s shaking with silent laughter.

It takes about five seconds for Derek to realize why Stiles is looking like he’s about to die from asphyxiation and he can barely keep from bursting out into laughter himself.

“Papa drink!” Connor instructs as he hops back onto the couch, waving a baby-bottle full of milk in front of Derek’s face and Stiles nods, adding, “Since I just taught him that babies can only start eating solids when they’re a bit older _you_ can apparently only have bottled milk for the baby. I tried to sell him on a normal cup but he was … _insistent._ ”

Connor nods, looking very proud of himself, and Derek’s voice is just a little choked when he says, “Thank you, son,” looking everywhere but at his chuckling mate when Connor proceeds to push the bottle against Derek’s mouth, declaring, “Baby too small to drink alone! I help!”

“You’re going to be the best big brother!” Stiles says proudly and from the look on his face Connor seems to be in definite agreement.

 

======================

_36 Weeks_

Derek’s reached the point in pregnancy where he’s just basically annoyed by everything.

Stiles buying the crunchy peanut butter even though Derek went through the trouble of freaking _underlining_ the word creamy on the shopping list?

Pretty damn vexing, and the sight of his mate trying very hard to stifle a grin when Derek gripes at him from the bed around a spoonful of peanut butter with the jar resting comfortably on his belly does _not_ go a long way to soothe Derek’s ruffled feathers.

Having _both_ of his children trying to sabotage his efforts at napping by running around yelling about ninja turtles and kicking his major organs like there’s no tomorrow respectively?

Incredibly annoying, but he does love them dearly, so he manages to sound only half-homicidal when he tells Stiles to just put on the Master Splinter robe already and get it over with.

Having Laura text him four times a day to ask how he’s doing and if she needs to bring over some food as if he was dying rather than fighting a daily battle against gravity, his bladder, and losing the rest of his sanity?

Irritating but definitely manageable and Derek’s going to send Alan and Emmy a gift-basket once they’re old enough to understand what that is, very much relieved that his nephew and niece’s existence are saving him from a recurrence of _Laura The Master Provider_ on a daily basis, having long since resigned himself to the fact that Laura apparently signed a “Big Sister Smothering”-Contract at the day of his birth.

Having the washing machine breaking down on him halfway through his long-overdue project of getting his little one’s wardrobe ready for the big arrival?

Nope.

Derek’s done.

Laura’s over protectiveness, Stiles’ forgetfulness, Connor’s never-ending energy, and his baby’s in-utero entertainment?

Annoying for a 36 weeks pregnant Omega, no doubt, but what they all have in common is that Derek loves them, would move mountains for each of them and pretty much die for at least two of them.

However, Derek does _not_ love the washing machine, a fact he feels compelled to share with the world with a roar that would put even the biggest Alpha to ever alpha to shame.

Connor, thankfully, is on an ‘It’s only going to be you and me for that much longer, little buddy, let’s make the most of it’- ice-cream-date with his daddy, meaning that Derek isn’t running the risk of traumatizing him for life by taking a brief but heartfelt moment to vent his frustrations in the most colorful language he knows.

The washing machine utters a last sad splutter before all the lights go out for good, leaving Derek with a basket full of unwashed baby-clothes and an almost uncontrollable and very hormonal urge to cry his eyes out.

Fate, however, has other ideas and when his cell phone lights up with the name “Cora” he answers the call without even thinking about it, grabs his jacket, barks, “Waffles, 15 minutes, no questions!” and just hangs up on her, trusting her to be smart enough to figure it out.

Half an hour later Derek digs into his blueberry waffles with cheddar, maple syrup, and bacon and Cora dutifully waits until he’s halfway done before she reaches over to gently wipe a smudge of detergent off his right cheek, her expression torn between fondness, amusement, and just a hint of worry.

“Better, Boo-Boo?” she asks and Derek sighs, swallowing his forkful and leaning back to take a sip of his tea.

“Better,” he decides after he’s taken inventory of his mental well-being and Cora shakes her head with a smile, swallowing a forkful of her own cherry-vanilla waffles.

“Want to talk about it?” she asks and Derek considers, then shakes his head, his eyes narrowing when he notices Cora nervously twirling her fork.

“What did _you_ want to talk about?” he asks her and Cora stills, expression carefully neutral when she meets his gaze.

“What do you mean?”

“You did call me,” Derek reminds her and Cora shrugs, not quite meeting his eyes when she mutters, “Does an Alpha sister need to have a reason to check up on her ready-to-go-at-any-moment-pregnant Omega brother?”

Derek chuckles.

“Laura … no. You on the other hand …”

Derek knows she cares, his memories of his first pregnancy vivid enough to know she worries just as much as Laura.

However, Cora’s always been better about backing off, giving Stiles the space he needs to actually be Derek’s Alpha, and luckily Cora gets what he means, her expression going from neutral to nervous as she begins to shred a napkin.

“I … I think I’ll … you know what, I shouldn’t even bother you with this, it can wait until after you’ve had the baby, it’s …”

“Cora,” Derek says firmly, abandoning his waffles and reaching over so he can clasp both of her hands in his, worry welling up inside him when he feels her shaking.

“Is something wrong with Isaac?” Derek asks and Cora shakes her head immediately, taking a deep breath before she finally looks at him, hands still shaking but her voice steady.

“I’m going to be Erica and Boyd’s Alpha donor.”

Her shoulders sag as soon as she’s done, as if she’s just unloaded a big weight off her chest, and Derek stares at her, feeling like she’s just clubbed him over the head with a hammer.

“You …” he begins, every single one of his instincts screaming at him not to be insensitive and screw this up and Cora takes mercy on him, the words just rushing out of her as if she’s held them in for far too long.

“I know what this means Derek, you don’t even have to say it. I know it won’t be my baby, despite what my instincts will say in the beginning, I know it’ll be Erica and Boyd’s baby and I’m fine with it. They asked me almost a year ago and I wasn’t sure if I could do it, then, but Isaac and I have talked about every possible scenario that could happen and we’re committed to doing this. I … we …”

She breaks off, taking a deep breath before she barrels on and the more she says the guiltier Derek feels, wondering just how little attention he paid to his baby-sister in the past three years to miss this.

“Isaac doesn’t want children. He likes them as much as the next Omega, but he doesn’t want his own, and it took him almost a year to tell me. Laura’s joked for years that I had the nursery colors all picked out the day I met him, _and_ I’m a teacher, he was terrified I was going to leave him for another Omega who’d bear my children. When he first told me I … I didn’t know what to say, really. I always wanted kids, or at least I thought I wanted kids. That’s what you’re taught, as an Alpha, that you need to find a nice Omega to knock up as many times as humanly possible, hell, our entire society is based on that premise, advertising and popular culture included, and the idea of not wanting children was just … growing up with Laura and her almost single-minded obsession with starting a family the thought of not having them never even crossed my mind! Don’t get me wrong, I love Connor, Alan, and Emmy, and I’ll love the crap out of Cookie when she gets here, but Isaac’s my world and the more I thought about it the more I realized that the only children I could ever possibly want are Isaac’s children.”

She smiles, shakily, and Derek squeezes her hands in encouragement, his eyes moist as she continues, this time in a much more brittle voice.

“Isaac wanted to leave me. He didn’t want to be responsible for me waking up in twenty years and realizing I have wasted my life but Derek, what the hell kind of life am I going to live knowing that the best thing that’s ever happened to me is going through life without me? And it took me almost a year to convince him that I loved _him_ , that I wanted _him_ to be my family. I’ve thought this through, Derek, hell, short of worrying myself sick about you and your AWOL mysterious Alpha baby-daddy I don’t think I’ve ever given a single matter so much thought in my life! And just when I had convinced him that our lives would truly be fulfilled without children Erica and Boyd got a letter with a cost-estimate from the only Alpha-Donor clinic willing to cater to Omega-Omega parents on this side of the country.”

She takes a sip of her coffee, as if to steel herself, and when she looks back at Derek her eyes are filled with anger.

“We were scheduled to have dinner that day and god, Derek, we’ve all seen Erica express emotion but I’ve never seen Boyd so heartbroken over anything! There was no way in hell they were going to be able to afford this and when they left that night Isaac turned to me and told me to be their donor. So we sat them down and explained the entire situation to them and Erica very firmly told us that they’d be honored to have me as their donor, but that we needed to really think this through and that no one would be impregnating anybody until all four of us were really one hundred percent certain we could do this. Isaac was on board with the idea from the beginning, but it took me almost a year to wrap my head around it. He was amazing, Derek, heck, they should name the kid Isaac, really, because if it hadn’t been for him I would have never agreed to it. I kept thinking that he’d think I was only doing this to satisfy my breeding urges, but at the end of the day it will _not_ be my child! Instead, Erica and Boyd will be kick-ass parents who will raise one tough little nugget, despite the crap society’s going to throw at them! Once I finally accepted that, I was able to make my decision.”

Derek nods, still speechless, and when Cora gives him a wobbly smile he gets up from his side of the booth as quickly as his stomach will allow him, motioning for Cora to scoot over so he can wrap her up in his arms, his heart almost bursting at the seams with pride, worry, and love all at once.

“Laura’s going to lose it and then worry herself crazy for the next twenty years, probably, but this is what I have to do, Derek,” Cora mutters against his shoulder and Derek nuzzles against her forehead, smiling.

“She’s going to be fine. If she freaks out we’ll let Lydia distract her with sex, that always works,” Derek tells her and Cora chuckles, her scent much calmer than it was when she first started speaking.

“Do you think I’m crazy, Boo-Boo?” she asks, her voice small, and Derek rests his hand on his belly, feeling his baby’s soft movements underneath his skin as he tries to imagine giving it to someone else.

It’s mind-boggling, terrifying, heart-breaking, and overwhelming all at once, and it makes him hold on to Cora all that much tighter as he tries to imagine what she must have been through, finally piecing together the puzzle of all those moments when he noticed that her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes over the past couple of months.

They live in a very breeding-oriented society and anything that deviates from the traditional Alpha + Omega = Baby model is met with disapproval (single parents), suspicion (surrogacy), stigma (adoption), and downright condemnation (abortion), even when it concerns Alpha-Omega couples.

Omega-Omega pairs, or Alpha-Alpha pairs – the latter of which are considered even more deviant than the former – face a wealth of discriminatory issues based on their sexuality alone, and Derek doesn’t kid himself, knows that even though he got more than enough sideways looks when he walked around town visibly pregnant but without a bonding-bite or Alpha in sight it won’t even _begin_ to compare to what Boyd will experience as a pregnant Omega with an Omega mate by his side.

He’s fiercely proud of his friends for going after their dream despite it all, and when he looks at his baby-sister he’s fiercely proud of her, too, as well as of Isaac, not even a doubt in his mind that between the four of them – and the rest of them to be there for support – they’re going to add another very lucky baby to their chosen family sooner rather than later.

“I love you, Cora-Bug,” he says and when Cora smiles at him he knows he didn’t mess it up.

It’s an overwhelming sense of relief he hasn’t felt in a very long time.

 

====================

 

_39 Weeks_

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“No really, I have a _very_ bad feeling about this.”

“Oh will you relax, nothing is going to happen!”

“But it’s getting so close, maybe we shouldn’t have …”

“ _Stiles_!”

Derek isn’t _quite_ absolutely-one-hundred-percent-done, yet, but he’s definitely getting there and he’s pretty sure the guy behind the popcorn counter pees his pants just a little in fear when he glares at Stiles so hard he can almost feel his eyes shooting fire.

“We’re here because I want to go out and see one last movie on date-night with my husband before I’m going to be stuck at the house for the next couple of months with a crying baby and a whiny three-year old! I told you that you didn’t have to come with me if you were scared but you refused to, and I quote, ‘leave me out of your sight lest I go into labor in the middle of the movie and bleed out all over the seats with no one to help me because everyone is going to think the agonized screams are coming from the screen.’ Now, I’m perfectly willing to have date-night on my own, but if that’s not convenient for you oh _Alpha_ mine then you better suck it up and sit through that movie with me or I swear I’ll …”

“Can we get some extra butter on the popcorn? You love popcorn, don’t you? And some cheese-nachos!” Stiles interrupts him quickly, turning pleading eyes to the young Alpha behind the cash-register and when the boy meeps, “Here! On the house!” and shoos them away with a free large popcorn, cheese nachos, _and_ raisinetts Derek’s mood improves significantly.

He places the nacho-tray on the crest of his belly for convenient access while Stiles fills up their drinks, then glares pretty hard at him when he suggests walking like that “Just to see if you can, I know I would if my stomach was sticking out like that!” and Stiles shuts up immediately, trailing behind him and lugging their impressive loot as they search for their seats.

Truth be told, Derek’s feeling a teensy-tiny bit bad about his arachnophobic husband having to sit through _Mega-Spider vs. Octogator_ with him, he does, but it’s not like he didn’t offer for Stiles to stay home.

Repeatedly.

Besides, according to the last ultrasound measurements he’s just about to give birth to another one of Stiles’ giant-headed babies, so he feels the Alpha owes him at least a little bit … even if he’s also giving birth to his own baby _and_ happily agreed to the activity that made it happen, making them pretty much even.

In theory.

In practice, Derek’s back starts trying to kill him two minutes into the previews while Stiles’ only problem is figuring out how to eat popcorn while holding his hands in front of his eyes, and a part of him hopes the spider is going to win.

He’s got 12 days to his due-date and with Connor being almost eight days late Derek’s not too concerned about the nagging pain, at first, ignores it in favor of dipping nachos into chemically engineered ‘cheese’-sauce instead.

They are 30 minutes into the movie when the pain spreads from his back to his stomach, wrapping around him like a fiery embrace of hell and he bites his lip, grateful that the Octogator is conveniently screeching on the scream to muffle his soft groan.

So … he might be a little bit in labor, sure, but that doesn’t mean he has to prove Stiles and his horrid predictions of a cinematic labor-bloodbath right this exact minute.

Half an hour and two contractions later the Mega-Spider sinks her venomous fangs into the squishy Octogator belly, Derek’s just about ready to admit that their second child is all around faster than Connor was, and the nacho-tray is empty, which, given the nauseous churning in Derek’s stomach, is just another unfortunate happenstance on what is quickly turning from a more or less romantic date into a medical emergency.

The next contraction hits during the film’s token-sex-scene between the blonde researcher Omega with the glasses and the ripped, heroic Alpha marine who’s about to save the day (because clearly one has time for naked shenanigans while hiding in a cave and being circled by a giant Mega-Spider), and Derek considers it an act of movie-criticism, really, when he wrenches Stiles’ half-eaten popcorn bowl out of his grasp, doubles over and starts retching, supplying the steamy love-making on screen with sound-effects that he’s pretty sure resemble the digestive distress of a full-grown elk.

“Just to be sure, this means we can go now, right?” Stiles asks timidly when Derek leans back and Derek doesn’t even dignify the comment with an answer, way too busy to breathe through the pain with a thunderous look on his face.

“Yes Stiles, we can go now!” he finally gets out when the contraction is over and Stiles lets out a sigh of relief, his arms steady as he hooks them around Derek to support him as they make their way out of the theater.

“I finally get why they say childbirth is beautiful,” Stiles remarks once he’s dumped the offending popcorn bucket in the nearest trash and Derek’s dry laugh turns into a pained little whimper midway, holding on to Stiles for dear life as the next contraction courses through him, his face pressed against Stiles’ shoulder as he tries to hold in a scream.

“This is happening very fast!” Stiles exclaims, sounding a bit frantic, and Derek would call him Captain Obvious, probably, if he wasn’t distracted by the fact that he can feel the bottom of his pants growing wet, leading Stiles to yelp in alarm.

“Whoa, whoa, hold on Cookie, Daddy needs to get the car first!” Stiles rushes out and Derek silently echoes the sentiment, really not up for giving birth in a movie parking lot during a late-night showing of an admittedly horrible trash film.

When they make it to the hospital Derek’s 8 cm dilated, Stiles gets on the phone to negotiate a babysitting-extension with Cora, and Derek silently congratulates his kid on wrecking not one but _two_ romantic nights when Melissa pokes her head inside the hospital room about twenty minutes after their arrival, her hair looking like someone’s repeatedly run his fingers through it.

“This is not going to take long at all, Honey, everything looks great! I’ll be outside to calm down the proud grandfather, just yell for me when you feel the urge to push!” she beams, patting his knee in encouragement and Stiles squeezes Derek’s hand, still looking a bit steamrolled by the quick turn of events but excited nevertheless.

Derek’s feeling a lot calmer than last time, having been through it before and knowing what to expect, but he’s also in a hell of a lot of pain, and when a particularly bad back spasm has him gasping for air Stiles climbs onto the bed behind him, kneading into his muscles as Derek focuses on getting his breath back.

When Melissa declares him ready to push an hour later Stiles stays behind him, their fingers clasped tightly as Derek falls back against Stiles’ chest after each push.

Even though it’s over in almost the blink of an eye it seems like an eternity to Derek until his baby lets out its first scream, sounding every bit as outraged over all the commotion as Connor did.

Derek lets out a sound that’s part laugh and part sob, feeling Stiles’ heartbeat thundering against his back when he sinks into the Alpha’s embrace, exhausted but relieved it’s finally over, his focus narrowed down to the red-faced, screaming, and perfect little baby Melissa places on his chest.

“It’s a boy!” Melissa tells them with a beaming smile and Stiles lets out a sharp exhale, his voice full of genuine surprise and wonder when he whispers, “We have another son, Derek!”

He kisses Derek’s hair, hooks his chin over Derek’s shoulder to get a good look at their baby and Derek does the same, counts fingers and toes, flashes his eyes without even meaning to, gasps when the baby squints up at him and flashes Omega gold right back.

“Told you!” Derek whispers, voice just a little scratchy, and he can feel the moisture on his cheek when Stiles kisses him once more, eyes brimming with emotion as he strokes a gentle finger down their son’s cheek.

An hour and a half later there’s a clean, healthy baby peacefully sleeping in Derek’s arms, John and Melissa have just tip-toed out the door, and Stiles is comparing the stats on the white-board with Connor’s, turning towards Derek with a very tired but utterly blissful smile.

“Isn’t it fascinating that he’s actually tinier than Connor was _and_ technically came three weeks earlier but _still_ weighs almost as much?” Stiles gushes proudly, pointing towards the whopping 8.9 pounds displayed on the board and Derek snorts, pretty sure his sore nether regions would strongly object to the word ‘fascinating’ in this particular context.

“I’m actually pretty sure his head is _bigger_ than Connor’s was,” Derek muses and Stiles tip toes over immediately to check, his smile wide when he nuzzles their little boy’s soft head.

“Don’t listen to Papa giving you your first complex, Sean, your head is adorable!” he tells him seriously and Derek winces, giving Stiles a sheepish smile.

“Actually … I’m not really feeling Sean for him after all,” he says slowly and Stiles grins, mouthing, “Told you so!” as he kisses the baby once more, looking up at Derek with a hopeful expression.

Derek nods, smiling, and when Stiles kisses him almost breathlessly he knows they’ve made the right choice.

Linus Quinton Hale-Stilinski’s birthday is May 1st, 12:04 AM … and there’s only one other little human in the world whom Derek loves just this much.

 

=======================

 

Linus spends his first night on Earth in his daddy’s arms and Derek doesn’t quite have the heart to chide his mate for it when he wakes up to a bleary-eyed but still smiling Stiles and a contentedly snuffling newborn.

“How was I supposed to put him down and go to sleep when he’s this stinking cute?” Stiles defends himself as he hands the baby over to Derek, crawling up on the bed with him and – to Derek’s utter lack of surprise – crashing out within the first minute.

With Stiles softly snoring beside him Derek spends his time studying their Omega son’s features and comparing them with Connor, marveling at how similar yet how different his baby looks to his big brother.

Connor’s more or less a mixture of Derek and Stiles, his eyes shaped like Stiles’ but colored like Derek’s, his nose upturned like Stiles’ but dusted in Derek’s freckles, his mouth like Derek’s but his ears very much like Stiles’, his auburn hair the exact same shade of Stiles’ but his eyebrows a dead-ringer for Derek’s.

When he looks at Linus Derek can see himself in the baby’s nose and his adorable pointy ears, as well as his almost full head of dark, nearly black hair, which is perhaps the most striking difference to his big brother, who was completely bald-headed at birth.

All overall Linus takes after Stiles more than he takes after Derek, however, his lips shaped just like Stiles’ and his eyes – when he does manage to open them – just as round as his mate’s and Connor’s, framed by a surprisingly thick set of eye-lashes. His eye-color is still baby-blue but Derek’s instincts tell him his Omega-son is going to be brown-eyed and when Melissa comes to check up on him she agrees, shaking her head when she notices Stiles drooling all over the pillowcase.

His mate wakes up two hours later and Derek texts Cora to bring Connor, shaking his head when he notices that Laura has blown up his phone with no less than thirty text messages, most of them a string of increasingly creative emojis that are apparently supposed to describe the birthing process.

Half an hour later there’s a knock on the door and when Cora carries Connor inside Derek positions Linus in his arms so that his big brother can get a good look, smiling encouragingly at his first born.

Stiles smacks a kiss on Connor’s cheek as he takes him from Cora, his voice excited when he says, “Hello big brother!” and Connor cocks his head, not quite smiling not quite frowning as he stares at the baby from the safety of his daddy’s arms, looking like he’s not quite sure what’s happening.

“Do you want to come say hi to your little brother Linus?” Derek asks, patting the space next to him on the bed and Stiles whispers, “Be gentle with the baby,” as he places Connor on the mattress, staying close enough to make a grab for Connor’s hands if he’s being too rough.

Connor stares at the baby without blinking, his little nostrils flaring, and Derek waits patiently for his response, remembering all the suggestions in the books that say not to be too pushy with the older siblings as they adjust to the new situation, especially if they are Alphas.

The books also taught Derek that his son will have lots of questions about the baby and he’s prepared to answer most of them, even if Connor might not understand everything he’s saying.

Connor finally opens his mouth, takes a deep breath … and says the one thing the books didn’t prepare Derek for.

“Baby stupid!”

**Author's Note:**

> Additional Commentary: 
> 
> The Gillette commercial Derek cried over is this one - go watch it. It will change your life - seriously: 
> 
> [Live-Changing Gillette Commercial ... well, not really, I guess, but pretty spectacular nevertheless](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFYWtGO3Fkw)  
>  
> 
> Awesome, right? Now go watch it in German (and marvel at how we awkwardly incorporate English words into our lingo because we're just cool that way), because the guy who did the voice-over also dubs Bruce Willis, is pretty much the best voice-over actor we have over here, and his voice caresses like velvet :  
> [German Version Caresses Like Velvet and That's Saying Something Because Hello, German!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ix8hbPv06EM)
> 
>  
> 
> Also, Ryan Reynolds named his daughter James and he'll forever get away with it because of "Deadpool".
> 
>  
> 
> The second part of this story will include:
> 
> \- Laura's determined path to reclaim her sex-life  
> \- Erica and Boyd's emotional path to get their family started  
> \- Derek's recurring struggle with his irregular heats (which, to his increasing frustrations, are a bit more messed up than usual after having Linus)  
> \- Derek and Stiles trying to get Connor to love his brother (or just like him, really, they're desperate)


End file.
